


Second Chances

by midnightninja14



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightninja14/pseuds/midnightninja14
Summary: The first time Noctis visited the Citadel museum was when he was a little boy, walking hand-in-hand with his dad. Something about the Citadel always called Noctis back, and after a few years, he noticed another bespectacled boy who seemed just as interested in the place.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> /shows up late with starbucks
> 
> Finally finished this one!! Day 3 for IgNoct Week -- Reincarnation!
> 
> also my weak ass couldn't resist adding some Regis love because I love Regis, he's a great dad, fight me irl

When Noctis was a little boy, he and his father went on a tour of the Crown City, the famous capital of the country of Insomnia. Though it had been a few hundred years since any crowned royals had lived within the city, the name had remained even after all this time, perhaps as a memory of the past. In the center of city was what many considered the jewel of the capital--the Citadel. Once upon a time, it housed the Lucian Kings and within its depths, the powerful Crystal said to have been passed down by the Draconian himself.

But that had been a long time ago, and there were no longer any kings or magic Crystals to be kept inside the walls of the enormous castle. No, the magnificent Citadel instead had been turned into a monument of sorts, kept preserved by the country as it had once been the home of many kings, and the location the last Lucian King who saved the world had made his last stand. Another tragedy for the King of Light, that the place he perished was in the place of his birth.

The story of the Dawn King and the Warriors of Light that assisted him was rather popular and well-known, their tale having been written down in history along with details about the Ten Years of Night. People in present time knew of the Astrals that had apparently lent the young king power, the rumored gods who were revered no longer, no traces of them seen in centuries. The daemons written about in books were only fictional creatures now, fragments of a time long gone, all thanks to the Chosen King who brought back the Dawn.

And so, the Citadel became something of a popular tourist spot, a museum in which people could quite literally walk into history and stroll down the very halls that had once been walked by kings. Portraits of past kings lined the walls, some too deteriorated by age to even properly recognize anymore, and nearer to where a memorial had been set up for the Dawn King, old photographs along with paintings depicted the king across various ages.

“Look, Noctis,” His father, Regis, pointed to a faded picture of the Dawn King, who stood happily smiling with three other men. “That man with dark hair is the blessed King who saved the world.”

“Wow!” Noctis bounced a little in place, squeezing his dad’s hand a little tighter and moving closer to see the pictures better. Regis chuckled, leaning down and easily picking up his boy to give him a better vantage point. Noctis spared a moment to grin at his father, before looking back to the memorial. His eyes caught on a painted picture visibly older than the photographs, the two figures depicted not easily recognizable any longer due to the artwork’s deterioration. The man in the picture was looking down at a boy who was seated in a large chair next to him, the boy’s expression lost to time, but the man’s kind hazel eyes were still clearly visible. Noctis pointed to the man, looking curiously at his dad. “Who’s that, Dad?”

“Ah…” Regis looked caught off-guard, something almost somber flashing through his gaze before he fixed his son with a smile. “I’ll show you.”

Regis walked back to area of the hall dedicated to the king that came before the Dawn King, stopping in front of a rather decrepit portrait. He nodded towards the plaque below the painting, reading for his son, “The Pyrrhic King: the father of the destined Chosen King. The King who sacrificed everything for the Dawn King who would make the greatest sacrifice of all.”

“What does pyrrhic mean?”

Regis truly did look solemn then, softly explaining the meaning to his son, his eyes suddenly seeming so much older, wearier. “Pyrrhic refers to… a victory or success that was won at too great a cost for the victor. Essentially, the person--in this case, the king picture here--succeeded at ensuring that his son, the future Dawn King, would live and thus be able to save the world. But as their kingdom was lost, and both their lives as well, the victory… truly wasn’t much of one.”

Noctis frowned, disliking the sad story and the look on his father’s face, and he hugged his little arms around his dad’s neck. “That’s sad. But that king looks nice, at least.”

That surprised a small chuckle out of Regis. “Is that so?”

“Yep!” Noctis pulled back to beam down at his dad. “His eyes look nice! They remind me of yours, and you’re the nicest dad ever!”

“Oh, Noct…” Regis laughed quietly, his eyes shining a bit as he hugged his son closer to him. He whispered words then, so softly that Noctis almost didn’t hear them. “I truly am so lucky to have another chance with you.”

“What do you mean, dad?” Noct questioned, not understanding his dad’s words but still hugging his dad back.

“It’s nothing, my son.” Regis put his boy back down, holding onto his hand. “Now, would you like to continue exploring the Citadel? The throne room is off-limits and only opened during the Dawn Festival, but there are other rooms to see, which hold other pictures and also various artifacts, such as swords and--”

“Whoa, swords? Let’s go!” Noctis nearly jumped in excitement, pulling an amused huff of laughter from his father as Regis started walking alongside his son.

“Of course, Noct.” The duo passed by the large portrait of the Dawn King again, only Noctis paying a passing glance to the young bespectacled boy who was staring up at the painting in awe.

* * *

Noctis didn’t know what it was about the Citadel, but he often found himself there, sometimes just staring up at the imposing structure while sat nearby on a bench, or taking in the dazzling interior as he strolled through the museum created within it. Even as a child, he had enjoyed coming to the large building, certain rooms within the place filling him with the oddest sense of both nostalgia and a bittersweet happiness, as though he’d been there before, a long, long time ago. The only places that Noctis didn’t like were the grand steps leading into the Citadel, and the throne room.

The first time he had entered the throne room had been during his first Dawn Festival, or at least, the first one he remembered. He remembered how large the room had felt, and even though it was filled with people paying their respects to the Dawn King, filled with soft music and the quiet chatter of speech, it still felt too big. Something about the room had made Noctis feel impossibly lonely, and he had clutched onto the bouquet of Lucian starflowers he was holding even tighter. At least the presence of his parents beside him gave him a bit of comfort as they moved up to the dais together, though Noctis didn’t notice the way his father froze up for a moment as they closed in on the throne. Noctis, instead, was focused on the throne itself, suddenly feeling sad as he looked at it, his chest beginning to ache. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be there anymore.

Noctis had laid down his bouquet of starflowers, the special flowers that were said to have grown for the Dawn King, while his parents put down bouquets of sylleblossoms, and Noctis quickly turned away from the throne, toddling away from the imposing seat and missing the bespectacled boy who was staring at the throne with confused green eyes as he clutched a bouquet of starflowers.

There was something about the throne that put Noctis on edge, that filled him with the strangest sense of melancholy that he couldn’t put a reason to. Yet, over the years, there was just something about the Citadel and the throne room within that drew Noct in. And as Noctis grew older, he noticed someone who frequented the Citadel as well.

Noctis had started high school the year before, a private school where the son of President Caelum was able to attend comfortably with little worry for paparazzi. It was a little difficult sometimes for him to escape the eye of the press, but he managed just fine, sometimes with the aid of his bodyguard or his friends. The Citadel had become something of a hideout for Noctis almost, as paparazzi weren’t allowed within the walls except for during the Dawn Festival to take pictures of the memorial. Oddly enough, Noctis found a bit of comfort in walking through the arching hallways, though the throne room continued to be a place that made him uneasy.

There was a boy, about his age, that Noctis would often catch glimpses of within the Citadel. He seemed to visit the place as often as Noctis did, his green eyes always intently studying the interior and the portraits hanging on the walls, his glasses sometimes glinting in the light. Weeks passed, and Noctis would continue to see the boy, and if he had thought hard about it, he would have realized that he had seen the very same boy as a child, eagerly taking in the pictures depicting the Dawn King and his friends.

Noctis was curious about him. It wasn’t everyday that a (cute) boy would seem to have the same habit of visiting the Citadel, and there was a part of Noctis that desperately wanted to at least learn the boy’s name. Hear his voice, learn about his past, see his eyes up close.

That day finally came, during the Dawn Festival that was held every year. Noctis had split away from his parents when he had found his friends enjoying the festivities outside of the Citadel, but he was alone when he made his ascent towards the throne room to pay his respects to the King who saved them all.

Imagine his surprise when he happened upon the throne, bouquet of starflowers in hand, and saw that very same bespectacled boy laying down the same flowers near the throne. The boy noticed him too when he straightened back up, his green eyes widening in surprise.

“...I’ve seen you before.” The boy’s voice was low, his accent clearly one of someone from Tenebrae, and Noctis thought he had never heard a more pleasant sound.

“Uh.” Smooth, Noctis. Noctis swallowed, starting again, “Yeah. You come here a lot, right? I’ve seen you around the Citadel, it’s like you’re here almost as often as I am.”

The boy smiled, something almost mischievous glinting in his gaze. “Actually, I was referring to school. I believe you’re a year or two lower than I am, but I’ve seen you in the gardens before. You seem to nap quite a bit.”

Noctis had the decency to blush, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “Ah… yeah, I like napping during my free periods. But you come here a lot too, right?”

“That sounds a lot like a pick up line. But yes, I do.” The boy chuckled at Noct’s rather obvious embarrassed flush, holding out a hand to shake. “My name is Ignis.”

“Ah, I’m Noctis.” Noct took the outstretched hand--

And it was if time stopped.

Memories flashed before his eyes, echoes of places and voices, phantoms of a time long gone and suddenly Noctis _remembered_. He remembered everything, remembered the Citadel, the throne, his father’s kind eyes, the car that had been like a home, an adventure that ended too soon, the warmth of his friends, the tragedy of a quest gone wrong too many times. The tragedy of sacrifice.

He remembered growing up within these walls--his _home_ \--remembered meeting a boy who would become his first friend. He remembered returning home, separating from his friends on the steps before he walked to his death. He remembered it all.

And Noctis remembered the man standing in front of him, who looked just as shell-shocked as he felt.

“...Specs.” Noctis breathed out at last, feeling as though he had found something he had lost. Feeling whole, complete, content despite the sudden barrage of new memories still trickling through his mind.

Ignis blinked rapidly, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing--and perhaps he couldn’t, for he could most likely recall half a lifetime of being blind. But soon, the shock melted into something fond, and a smile curled along Ignis’s lips. “...Your Highness. It is… very good to see you again.”

“Gods…” Noctis couldn’t stop smiling, about to pull Ignis in for--a hug? A kiss? He didn’t know which one, he wanted both but he was distracted by a sudden itch on his wrist. Both he and Ignis pulled their hands apart at the same time, turning their arms so the underside of their wrists was visible.

A black mark was etched into their skin, looking every bit to be a tattoo, and their marks seemed to match: a constellation of stars. Soulmate marks were said to have emerged after the return of the Dawn, but even then were considered quite rare, so for them both to not only have found each other again in a new life and remember everything, but to have been blessed with the mark that was a clear connection of their bond--it seemed nothing short of a miracle.

“That’s…” Even in their new life, Noct’s love of stars seemed to have carried over, and he recognized the group of stars on his wrist instantly.

Apparently, Ignis was similar in his continued interest of constellations, as he easily answered for Noctis, “The constellation for the Dawn King.”

“...It seems vaguely narcissistic for _me_  to have this as my soulmate mark.” Noctis stared at his mark, glancing up when Ignis laughed.

“I suppose so, but it is also fitting, as he was important to the both of us.  _You_ were incredibly important, and the role you had was as well.” Ignis reached for Noct’s hand, entwining their fingers together. “But to think, we would be able to meet each other again like this…”

“I know.” Noctis grinned, squeezing Ignis’s hand. “I think we definitely need to catch up. And hey, I think we’ll have more time to ourselves in this life.”

“I believe so as well. No wars to worry about, no prophecies, no duties to follow a wayward prince. I suppose the wayward President’s son might be more applicable in this situation, though I wouldn’t mind following him.”

Noct couldn’t help it, he laughed, tugging Ignis closer to him. “Even after all this time, you’d still want to take care of me?”

“I’ll always want to be with you, Noct.” Ignis smiled, before leaning in to press his lips to that of his old prince--his old _king_.

Indeed, the Dawn King and his old advisor would have all the time in the world, in a new, kinder lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> So ofc I tied in soulmate marks because I'm weak again, and I was inspired by this reincarnation/soulmate idea: "You keep going to this place, and you always notice another person here too. Neither of you know that this is the place where the both of you had died/first met in the past life."
> 
> Tbh I might visit this AU or idea again, to add to it or something, we'll see!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://midnightninja14.tumblr.com)!


End file.
